Summer of Crows

by Hans Cummings

  Drak-Anor. The day of Lorelei’s death.

  She felt a clawed hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

  Tasha waved her away. “I’m sorry. This is a shock. We have already met, Archmage. At Drak-Anor. Many years ago.”

  Clapping her hands together, Delilah hooted. “I knew it! Katka’s been telling me all about you. You’re that sorceress who tried to kill me! Come in, come in.”

  Katka, her mouth agape, turned toward Delilah. “This is her? The one with that stupid knight who wanted to kill all draks?”

  Blinking back tears, Tasha entered the room. Delilah closed the door.

  “I’m not that person anymore.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, Tasha wiped her eyes. “I have spent my whole life since then trying to atone for what we did.” Composing herself, she curtsied. “Archmage? Your apprentice signaled you were in. I have urgent business. I’m the Crow Queen.”

  Delilah glanced over her shoulder. “You lit those damned candles?”

  “You said you were free!” Katka’s defense came as a high-pitched protest.

  The archmage bared her teeth. “I thanked Dolios for a free evening. It’s not the same thing. She’s been pestering me for weeks to meet with you, regardless of my schedule.”

  Books and fetishes covered a round table shoved to one side of the circular chamber. A stairway led to the higher levels of the tower. Near the window where a candle spewed sparks outside, stood a smaller table with a bottle of wine, goblets, and dirty plates.

  “Katka, open another bottle of wine.” Delilah waved her hand, returning to her seat. “Your slate has been clear since you helped us fight the oroqs. And now you’re the Crow Queen? I guess we’ve both moved up in the world.”

  She pointed toward the stool Katka vacated. “Sit, please. Drink with us.”

  Katka brought another goblet to Tasha, then filled all three before dragging another stool over.

  “She told you about me?” Tasha sipped the wine. It burst with berry flavor, possessing a subtle floral nose. “Did she tell you about the chaos rift? My research into chaos magic?”

  Delilah shook her head. “No, but she did tell me some very interesting things about how you get around. I’ve gotten some moon gates working again, and I’ve been using them to figure out proper teleportation magic.”

  When she first studied at the Arcane University, Tasha learned about artifacts believed lost during The Sundering, including the moon gates. Much like the back door in her hut, moon gates allowed instant transport from one to another.

  “Being able to teleport around Calliome would make a great number of things easier.” Tasha certainly found the convenience of the hut’s portal addictive.

  “I want to study your hut.” Delilah gestured toward Tasha. “I’ll come help with the chaos rift. In exchange, you let me study that portal you use.”

  As soon as Delilah made the offer, a chill ran down Tasha’s spine. She pulled her feathered cloak tight around her shoulders. “I don’t think the goddesses approve of that exchange.”

  Lowering her brow, the archmage narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “The hut is the domain of Cybele, Gaia, and Artume.” Confirming the cloak as the source, Tasha focused on the chilly sensation covering her back. “I have a very strong sense they’re not keen on you examining the magic involved.”

  “I see.” Delilah snapped her mouth shut, clicking her teeth together. “So, you come asking for favors and are willing to grant none in exchange?”

  “I have come as a guild mage asking for assistance closing a chaos rift.”

  “I received your messenger.” Archmage Delilah faced the window. “I only know of two wizards besides myself with experience in that area. One is in Vlorey, and the other Frost Rime.”

  Vlorey lay several months away by overland travel, and even by sea. Tasha guessed that Frost Rime was equally distant, but she did not know how to get there. Indeed, the last she’d heard, it had been abandoned and lay decrepit. Still, she did not intend to yield so easily. “Then the obvious solution is for you to come to Curton yourself. It’s becoming a danger to Curton and to the Icescale clan of draks that have recently settled in the area.”

  Tasha noticed the archmage clench her jaw at the mention of draks in danger, but she waved her hand in dismissal. “That’ll take weeks.”

  “If you leave now”—Tasha set her goblet on the table—“we’ll have it dug out by the time you arrive. I can get you home instantly once we’ve finished.”

  The archmage sat in silence for a moment before facing Tasha. She sighed, slumping. “I want to be petty and say I won’t help you without examining your portal, but I can’t. I have a duty. But neither can I just leave the Arcane University for weeks at a time. Not right now.”

  “Deli…” Katka reached across the table toward the archmage.

  Archmage Delilah held up her hand, silencing her apprentice. “Katka, you will take those siblings from Vlorey, Hayden and Jordan, and leave for Curton in the morning. Ride as hard as you can.”

  The color drained from the apprentice’s face. Then she bowed her head. “Yes, Archmage. I should go tell them now.”

  Katka slid off her stool, curtsied to the archmage and the Crow Queen, then left them alone.

  “Hayden and Jordan have been studying chaos since they joined the Arcane University.” Delilah drank from her goblet, draining the wine. “They’ll be able to help you with the rift. The four of you should be able to make short work of it and any nasty beasties that come out.”

  Tasha bowed her head. “Thank you, Archmage.”

  “Take care of them. I expect them to return home—all whole and unmutated.”

  “I swear to you”—Tasha placed her hand over her heart—“I will guard them with my life.”

  Chapter 61

  “Ah, Lady Aveline.” Lieutenant Valon entered the vestibule. Aveline glanced up from the pay ledger. Valon helped himself to a sweet roll from the plate on her desk. “A runner arrived from Cliffport.”

  “Cliffport?” Aveline closed the ledger. “Regarding what?”

  “The magistrate has left and will be here the day after tomorrow. He’s been apprised of the situation, and he says he looks forward to any tribunal where he can sit in judgment over Koloman.”

  Aveline leaned against the back of her chair. “That’s good news. I didn’t realize he had such a grudge against Koloman.”

  “Yes, well, don’t forget how Koloman became Lord Mayor in the first place.” Sitting on the edge of Aveline’s desk, Valon chewed the sweet roll.

  “I remember he sent a sizable coffer of gold to Prince Gavril.” Aveline shook her head. “He demanded Sir Agnar accompany the bribe personally, leaving me alone in Curton for the first time since my parents died.”

  “Thus securing his position from Grigori the Stern.”

  “Right.” Recalling the incident, Aveline realized why Grigori’s son, Grigori the Younger, seemed so keen on assuming Koloman’s place. She assumed his desire was born of arrogance. She understood now it was more than that. “I wonder what happens to Koloman’s estate if he’s put in prison or I’m ordered to execute him? He inherited it, right? He has no heirs anyone knows of.”

  Valon thought about this for a moment. “I suppose it would revert to the city council to decide its fate.”

  Aveline chuckled. “It’d make a lovely orphanage. Mother Anya has been wanting to set one up for ages.”

  “That’s justice.” Valon laughed. “An excellent use for his ill-gotten fortune.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Koloman’s been quiet, so I’m going on patrol.” Aveline returned the ledger to the vault before retrieving her mace and shield. Hearing Valon conversing with the guards in the cellblock, she left them to it as she headed into the city.

  Most of Curton only paid lip service to Remembrance, with mudders needing to be reminded of who they were supposed to honor or remember. Were it not for the draks in town, Aveline doubted
anyone would observe the day. She started her patrol upriver toward Danica’s Den. Surprisingly, the gambling house bustled with business, despite the horror of what recently occurred there. Part of her wanted to inquire how the cleanup went, but she decided not to endure the crowded, smoky environment just to satisfy her own curiosity.

  Across the river, she saw Ra-Jareez and Jazeera working on the exterior of Tasha’s old house. From where she stood, their progress seemed slow, although Aveline assumed they’d spent much of their time working on the ruined interior. Unwilling to linger, she turned the corner, moving away from the river, before doubling back through Drakton.

  Every building occupied by draks presented some sort of visual recognition of the day. Some families honored the sacred day by painting their doors with a blazing silver dragon head, while others hung faded pennants passed down through the generations. Like the calm before a storm, few draks wandered the streets, and those who did appeared to be traveling with purpose. Aveline knew the scene would be quite different once the celebration was underway. She hoped her invitation to the town councilors on behalf of the Crow Queen did not go ignored.

  She checked in at Mudders’ Gate before making the arduous trek through the streets of Hillside. She spent the rest of the morning circling the area near the market before crossing Caravan Bridge and heading into Old Town. By the time she approached her home by the city wall west of Miners’ Gate, the sun had sunk low in the sky, casting long shadows over the streets. She didn’t like leaving her home unoccupied, but she felt obliged to sleep at the citadel for as long as Koloman remained imprisoned there.

  By the time she returned, Valon had been relieved by Brana. Aveline shared a meal with the young woman before turning in for the night. She prepared to spend much of the following day in a similar fashion.

  * * *

  Tempted as she was to burn her blood-soaked tunic and dung-covered skirt, Tasha lowered herself into the mill pond. Fed by a tributary of the Copper Run, the water felt as brisk as the snow from which it came, chilling away lingering fatigue from a late night of thinking about Torben.

  Every knowledgeable farmhand told Yana and Dinara their cow’s pregnancy, an accident resulting in a mid-summer calving, should be written off in light of the calf’s breech position. The two women, distraught at the thought of losing their only milk cow, pled with the Crow Queen to intervene.

  Delighted to deal with a problem more serious than a wart or boil, Tasha called upon the mantle to aid her and the cow. The task proved messy, although the magic of the mantle kept the cloak clean. As she rubbed her arms in the cool water to loosen dried blood, she contemplated whether to feel honored for having a calf named after her.

  Once the pond water had chilled her to the bone, Tasha waded up the bank, balancing on the stones near the edge. Her heart skipped a beat as she spotted a man approaching.

  Torben.

  Crouching, he offered her a hand. He pulled her up and out of the water, chuckling. “I don’t believe I’ve ever come across a fully clothed bathing beauty before.”

  Shivering, Tasha plucked the mantle from the branch where she left it for safekeeping. “Lucky for you. It’s frowned upon to come across unclothed bathing beauties.”

  Throwing the cloak over her shoulder, she drew it closed. It warmed her. With the summer sun still high in the sky, she knew it would not be long before she felt comfortable, if not dry. “I’m happy you stopped by. I was hoping to see you again before…”

  “Yes… before.” Torben sat on a nearby fallen tree.

  Tasha joined him. “Have you been drinking your tea?”

  “Yes.” Torben rested his hands on his legs, studying the sky. “And I have come to a decision.”

  Forcing herself to maintain steady breathing, Tasha faced the southerner. Dark circles under his eyes told of recent sleepless nights, although he remained well groomed. He wore none of his usual gear, just a pair of breeches and boots, his tunic, a fur-lined vest, and a pouch on his belt. His clothes, all neutral shades of brown, seemed old.

  Torben met her gaze, furrowing his brow. “I have chosen life.”

  Unable to contain her joy, Tasha threw her arms around him. She held him for several minutes, fighting back tears. Putting an arm around her, he rested his head on top of hers.

  “Vasilisa is a difficult woman, but she taught me much. She will be with me when I change, and she will guide me tonight. Keep me away from any temptations.”

  Tasha finally released him. “I’m glad to hear that. I know you’ll be strong.”

  “Without you here”—Torben held Tasha’s hand—“I would not have made the same choice.”

  Leaning close, she pressed her lips to his. His spine stiffened at first, but then he relaxed, pulling her close. Tasha let the passion of the moment flow through her, warming her from head to toe as she kissed him.

  At last, he pushed her away. “Things will be different after tonight. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time.”

  Tasha pursed her lips. “I’m the Crow Queen. I will not fear you. In fact, I expect a full report tomorrow. I want to know how my tea worked, if nothing else. My hut will be in the hills outside of Miners’ Gate.”

  Chuckling, he averted his eyes. “Very well.” Torben moved to leave. “I’m going to say my goodbyes to Florin and his family. I won’t be staying with them anymore.”

  She held onto his hand as he moved to leave, finally releasing it when he reached arm’s length. “Promise me you’ll seek me out, Torben.”

  “I will. I don’t know where I’ll be when the hunt is done, but I will return to find you as soon as I can.” He squeezed her hand, releasing it as he withdrew. “I promise.”

  Tasha watched him leave before returning to the hut. Since her clothes still dripped with water, despite feeling warmer, she changed into one of the new skirts and tunics she’d recently purchased. She called Korbin and Revan to her. With both perched on her shoulder, she used the back door to return to the mine and join the draks in their Remembrance celebration.

  Though the festivities had not yet begun, Tasha observed workers from the cemetery mingling with draks, setting up the bonfire. Several of the stoneworkers erected the long tables at which they would later feast. Already, hogs rotated on spits; their dripping fat sent fire dancing into the sky. The aroma of roasting pork mingled on the breeze with the fragrance of wildflowers.

  She greeted a group of draks she recognized from Curton, their dusty blue, green, and grey scales conspicuous among their brethren Icescales. It warmed her heart to see draks from different clans, as well as humans, all coming together to remember the fallen and celebrate that which survived.

  While she waited for the festivities to begin, she paid her respects to Vasco. Mounds of churned, muddy earth covered the graves, outlining where each of the bodies lay. Sparse grass covered the area, most of it worn away from constant foot traffic over the past few weeks. Tasha knelt before Vasco’s grave marker. For now, a wooden stick with the initials of “VD” replaced the simple marker Aveline had placed there. Soon, the stoneworkers would install a permanent granite marker to commemorate their companion’s sacrifice.

  She sank her hands in the mud, closing her eyes. Through her connection with Gaia, she felt each body, as well as the host of terrors visited upon each one. Even though the spirits had moved on to the next realm, the evil they experienced lingered. At the edge of her perception, Tasha felt the chaos rift deep under the hills. Pushing it away, she concentrated on the life all around her.

  Despite the barren appearance of the graveyard, the earth teemed with life. From the worms and beetles feasting upon the interred dead, to the seeds waiting to erupt from the churned earth, they all flourished under the bosom of the Earth Mother.

  Tasha drew from that power—energy of the land itself held in the earth and in the deep roots of ancient trees. Spreading outward from where she knelt and encompassing the entirety of the graveyard, grasses and flowers pushed their way through
the dirt, covering the land in a blanket of green accented with splotches of red, yellow, blue, and white. At each corner of the rectangular graveyard Aveline so painstakingly plotted, a tree burst from the dirt, punching its way toward the sky, unfurling branches and leaves like fingers reaching for the gods above.

  The trees—cherry, apple, plum, and pear—would bring life. Shuddering, she opened her eyes, forcing herself to take each breath slowly until her limbs stopped shaking. Tasha noticed the crowd had gathered around her. Wide-eyed in awe, they stared at the Crow Queen’s creation—a verdant field of grasses and flowers, a living monument to the dead. The first stars of night sparkled in the sky, and the nearly full King began its journey from east to west.

  She brushed soil off her skirt, rubbing her hands to remove as much dirt as possible as she approached the crowd. They fell to their knees, prostrating themselves before her.

  “Please, no, don’t do that. I just wanted to do something nice for all our kin who died.” Reaching downward, she urged one of the workers to his feet. “I need to wash this mud off my hands before the festivities begin.”

  One drak from the Icescale clan, still kneeling, pointed over his shoulder with a trembling claw. “There’s a rain barrel you can use, over by the mine.” He averted his eyes once he saw her heading in the correct direction. Tasha hurried through the crowd, hoping they would resume their activities once she was out of sight.

  She found the barrel. While she washed up, a familiar grey-scaled drak approached her. He pounded his chest. “You know that onion honey did the trick.”

  Tasha laughed. “I’m happy to hear it. I’m surprised you came all this way for Remembrance.”

  Tilting his head, Toviah scratched under his chin. “I heard the Icescale clan was here, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I used to visit them in my traveling days. You know, I knew Klatt when he was a young drak before his tail stiffened and made him grouchy.”

  “I’m happy to see you here.” Tasha put her hand on the drak’s shoulder. “And I’m happy both the Firetender and Ashenscale clans sent draks out this way.”